If she surged back, she’d impale herself. She’d get what she wanted faster than waiting for him to give it to her.
She forced herself to wait.
It was there. Right there.
And then he was inside her. Filling her. Giving her that delicious stretch.
With one hand on her hip and the other holding her shoulder, he drove into her hard, causing her whole body to jerk forward. Causing her to brace her arms so her face didn’t smack the mirror.
But he held her eyes in the reflection, his nostrils flaring, his jaw set as he powered into her. He fisted her loose hair in his left hand, raised his right hand and she tensed with the realization of what he was about to do next.
His arm dropped, his hand a blur.
But she saw the motion, heard it land, experienced the sharp sting.
And the strike against her ass cheek caused her gasp at the initial shock of it to turn into a moan.
Holy shit, no one... no one had ever done that to her before.
She wasn’t surprised he did it, but more shocked at her own reaction to it.
She was soaking him, her arousal sliding down her thighs as he continued to drive relentlessly into her. His cock pistoning in and out of her rim to root, their damp skin slapping almost as loudly as when he spanked her.
It was a risk to demand it, but she did anyway. “Again.”
Like she expected, he hesitated, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He wanted to fight it, wanted to refuse to give in and give her what she asked for. Since it was no longer only what he wanted, but what she wanted, too.
It was one way he thought he could control her. Only taking what he wanted. Not giving her the same.
He was wrong.
Two could play at that game.
Whether he knew it or not, she had already come once. She would come again whether he spanked her again or not.
But to deprive her of that pleasure would be depriving himself of it, too.
His loss.
He yanked on her hair, pulling her head back until her neck arched, until the back of her head touched the plane of her back.
As her neck strained, she set her eyes on him, not through the mirror this time.
“Mirror, not me,” he growled.
He was using the mirror as a barrier between them. A separation of sorts between reality and fantasy.
She struggled to lift her head enough so she could do just that. He wanted for her to strain against him, to feel the sting in her scalp as he tugged one direction and she fought to tip her head enough to look into the mirror.
But the second she did it, he gave her what she wanted. Harder this time. The stinging crack of his palm on her flesh, the violent ripple of her ass as he struck her.
Almost as if he was punishing her for making the demand.
“People like you have tried to control me almost my whole fuckin’ life. You ain’t doin’ it now. Not ever.”
But it backfired. Because what turned her on, turned him on even more.
His pace stuttered and his cock thickened even more inside her. Which meant he was getting close. He’d have to work hard not to come.
The grip on her hair tightened and he used it to pull her back up to a stand. She was unable to stifle a gasp from the severe pull on her scalp.
That sharp gasp made his hips still, but for only a second. He jerked on her hair at the same time he thrust up.
His arm wrapped across her front like a steel bar, pinning her back to his chest. He squeezed one breast so tightly, it quickly became flush, the nipple peaked and aching. He rolled it between his fingers before pinching it hard, causing the air to flee her lungs.
The other buried between her legs. He grasped her mound like a claim, playing with her clit.
He slid his middle finger inside her, stretching her even further, as his cock speared her over and over.
The hand on her breast slid up her chest until it wrapped around the front of her throat again, squeezing. Reminding her how fragile her throat was, how it wouldn’t take much for him to stop her from breathing.
That risk alone made every nerve tingle.
A flush worked its way from her chest up her neck. Her body quivered as he railed her hard, her breasts bouncing violently with each forceful thrust.
Her, not begging for mercy.
Him, not giving her any.
Even if she asked, he’d ignore her.
He was taking what he wanted, not giving a shit about what she wanted. She only had to hang on for the ride.
She grabbed his hair, yanking it hard. Taking pleasure at watching his grimace of pain in the mirror. The same type of pain he had doled out to her.